


at the very mention of your name

by liesmith



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, couch quickies are all i know how to write god bless, this might be the last one i ever do and i didn't even go out on my true otps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: not the nicest place to do thisorkhail missed him





	at the very mention of your name

khail is burning. brett’s hands are hot and heavy, roaming over his smaller frame, and briefly, he wonders if brett could snap him in half. he probably could and the idea makes khail whimper against the beanie, head tilting back as brett’s lips move down past his collarbone, dragging them out over his sternum. the hands fit around his waist with ease, a finger curling around a belt loop as khail melts backwards into the couch, the only solid thing he can focus on right now besides the actual line of fucking pure muscle pinning him to it.

“breath.”

brett’s voice snaps him out of his head and khail gives a nervous, jittery laugh. was he really not breathing? “sorry.”

“you good?” brett’s always been the best in bed. way too fucking kind for his own good, would rather get you off twenty times before his once kind of guy. this isn’t new to khail; maybe the patterned couch under him is, but brett and him is normal. been doing it since college.

still, khail will never get used to it.

“i’m good,” he reassures after a moment, after realizing brett is just hovering and staring at him, “seriously. i’m good.”

brett takes a moment, probably to assess the skinny twig under him, and then goes back to feeling that same twig up. they’ve gone from just holding him to gently palming between his legs, just feeling the growing chub as khail’s hands feel brett over. fingertips touch the line of shoulder, dancing along the base of his neck. he dips his fingers beneath the back of brett’s shirt, pressing them into the muscle as the hand between his legs gropes him a little more insistent and khail exhales soft, eyes drifting shut. brett’s mouth goes to his jaw, a little nip along the skin before it goes to khail’s pulse, teeth digging just so into the skin. they’re way too fucking old for hickies but khail still shivers and tilts his head back for it, let’s brett suck at the marks left behind as the hand starts to tug at his jeans, trying to do the one-handed dance to thumb the button open.

khail wonders if he should help and starts to drop his hands from brett’s back, fingertips dragging slow along his biceps and forearms, idly feeling the muscles. he lids his eyes and covers brett’s fumbling hand with one of his own, giving a small huff. “use both your hands, idiot.”

brett grunts against his neck instead of answering and khail just rolls his eyes, wiggling his hand beneath brett’s and getting his jeans undone, pushing them down himself with zero help from brett, though now that the obstacle is gone, brett’s attention focuses entirely back on that. both hands just cover khail’s thighs before brett inches them upwards, gently pulling down the boxer briefs he’s wearing. khail tilts his hips, just slightly, ready for something more, and then… brett pulls back, examining him again.

“what now?”

“bend and close your legs,” brett answers, voice soft as he opens the lube. khail tries his best to fight off the confusion on his face and does as brett asks, now in an awkward position with his legs near brett’s shoulder.

“this sexy to you?”

“be quiet,” brett snorts, eyes crinkling just so when he’s trying not to laugh, “just wait.”

he shifts himself and khail scoots down to accommodate, getting slightly more comfortable, but it doesn’t last too long. cooler hands worm between his thighs, making them wet, and khail whines in protest. “b-brett, this is so much fucking clean up, are you serious?”

“yeah,” brett leans down, giving khail a quick kiss, “it’ll be okay.”

dumbass brett. dumbass him, really. khail just melts at the kiss, sighing out soft and happy as he settles in, eyes drifting shut. as annoyed as he is at the prospects of cleaning up, he can’t be that mad. brett’s always been so good to him. he listens to brett rustling around and then hands settle at his hips as brett just rubs slow against his thighs before carefully pressing between them and khail shivers, an arm going over his eyes as brett’s rhythm starts, slow and easy. while he moves, brett leans back down, pressing khail’s knees to his chest almost as brett kisses him again and khail reciprocates, hand itching to slide under his beanie and go for hair, but there’s nothing left there anymore, and he kinda misses the softness. instead, he just moves his hand to cup the back of brett’s neck, lips parting. brett takes the invite slowly, tongue pressing into the barely there canines.

the rhythm is picking up as brett dominates the kiss and khail just whimpers soft, the slick slide of brett between his legs and rutting against him as he does so makes his stomach twist and flutter. he flexes his thighs when he can, mind tumbling over everything he’s feeling, which is just so damn _good_ and khail wants to kick himself for letting this not happen for so long. he’s busy, brett’s always fucking busy, and time is far and few in between.

but here and now, on the shitty ratty patterned couch, khail can’t think of a better reunion.

brett’s pulled back from the kiss, spreading quick, open mouthed ones against his cheeks and jaw again as his pace increases once more. khail doesn’t know who is more desperate right now; him or brett. he just keeps his hips tilted, wanting to rut back against brett but unable from the position, trying to ignore the frustration that wants to set in. feels too good to really be mad, anyways. khail just returns some of the messy kisses, whining against brett’s scruff, fingers itching to reach down and touch them both, but with the way brett’s thrusting, it won’t be much longer for both of them.

it happens a moment later, brett gasping against khail’s cheek as he thrusts, giving a shudder as he comes over khail’s stomach and khail is glad he had half a mind to ruck his shirt up, though he’s sure it’s still somewhat ruined. it doesn’t stop his own orgasm anyways, hips up and thighs quivering as his own mess joins brett’s on his stomach.

when the sleepiness kicks in like whiplash, khail grunts as brett’s put a little extra weight on his legs, making the position uncomfortable. “b-brett, get off…”

“mm,” brett mumbles, though he relents on khail’s legs and leans on the couch instead, catching his breath. he looks… so damn handsome. khail feels a little flushed, like a teenager fresh out of school and going to college, seeing this damn twink in his friend groups and spending nights alone with him. too bad khail couldn’t bulk up like brett did; then none of them would be useless twinks.

brett’s shirt comes off and he uses it to messily clean up khail, clearly going as far as effort allows him. he balls the shirt up, setting it on the floor near them. “that wasn’t so bad, sweetie.”

the pet name always cuts through khail like a hot knife. his cheeks flare up in red and he looks away, feeling embarrassed and giddy all at once. “shut up, meatball. go get a shirt, you’re going to scare the kids.”

brett just laughs above him and leans down, giving his forehead a kiss. khail just gives his own nervous little laugh again, wrapping his arms around brett and pulling him down for a tighter hug. the shirt can wait, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> we can say this is for nate, my one other khail/brett shipper


End file.
